


Worth It

by lovehugsandcandy



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 17:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18579388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: Ellie is hurt taking down The Brotherhood and Logan and Colt have very different ways of dealing.





	Worth It

Their plan fell apart quickly, almost before Ellie realized it. She turned and, instead of her dad standing next to her, he was on the ground, Jason standing over him.

Operating on instinct, she leaped, jumping at him, fists flying, guttural screams coming from her mouth. She wanted to hurt him, the rage coming swiftly; she went for his face, nails out and ready. However, he saw it coming and, with a swift backhand, knocked her down, hard. Pain exploded at the base of her skull, behind her eyes, and she landed, hard, as she faded into darkness.

~~~~~

When she woke up, her head was throbbing, a steady beat of pain traveling through her temples. “Owww….”

“Shh, shh, shh.” Logan was at her side in an instant. “You’re ok.”

She blinked, frantically, trying to  will her surroundings into focus. “Logan? What? Where am I?”

“The hospital,” he grabbed her hand, a steady pressure comforting her as he frowned before continuing. “You hit your head pretty bad trying to take out Jason.”

The memories came flooding back. “My dad!”

“He’s-”

A creak made her look up, wincing at the light in the room, as heavy footsteps entered. “Hey, pumpkin.” There was her dad, alive and well and in the flesh. 

She sighed in relief, body relaxing against the hospital bed as she took him in. He was carting two cups of coffee, handing one off to Logan as he sat in the chair by her bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” Everything hurt but the worst was her head, the roar at the base of her skull unrelenting. “What happened?”

“Nasty hit to the head. The doctor said you had a concussion, but you would be fine. Just need to take it easy for a long time.” Her dad squeezed her hand. “You’re tough, kid.” 

She smiled weakly. “I don’t feel that tough. What happened? With….with The Brotherhood?”

Logan rubbed his forehead, perching on the bed next to her legs. “We got most of them, but Jason got away.”

“They’ll find him, don’t worry.” Her dad took a sip of his coffee, eyes on her. “We have half the precinct looking for him.”

She nodded. No one told her what she really wanted to know. “And everyone else?”

“We got Mona out, removed the tracking device, she’s safe.” 

“Oh. And Colt?”

Logan’s eyes hardened. “He’s fine too. Everyone is fine.”

Ellie couldn’t tell if her face showed her emotions, if her disappointment was clear on her face. If she were called out on it, she would have blamed the head injury and the throbbing in her skull, but no one said anything. So she laid on the bed, stiff blanket over her, wondering where he was.

~~~~~

In the end, she had to stay for three days. Three long days where she did nothing but sleep, watch reruns and infomercials, and think. Logan was by her side for almost all of it, both his guilt and his heart seemingly requiring that he wait on her hand and foot. Her dad was in and out as well, trying to hunt down Jason, still at large. Mona even came a few times, always with a smirk and a milkshake, freed from surveillance and as feisty as ever. 

She didn’t ask about anyone else.

Finally, she was cleared for discharge. Her dad was coming to pick her up in a half-hour and Logan had headed out, home (wherever that was now), to get some sleep, so she was alone with her thoughts. Those thoughts were leading down a bad path so she read her discharge instructions, multiple times, until she had them memorized and could recite them unprompted. When that was too much, she packed and repacked her bag, trying to distract herself. She didn’t have much, only some clothes her dad brought and a teddy bear from Logan (’Get Well Soon’ embroidered on its fluffy stomach), so it didn’t distract her for long, but when her thoughts were too angry and lonely and loud, she would just start over, refolding the same shirts, over and over again.

A rap on the door and a creak as it opened behind her; she was back on the sweatshirt (seventh time, straighten the sleeves before you tuck them). “Hey, dad, I’m ready.”

She turned and froze, heart stopping. “The HELL happened to you?!?”

Colt grinned, a quirk of the lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not the one who was in the hospital.” His tongue darted out, playing on the split lip that looked like it had scabbed and broken open again half a dozen times. He had a black eye, purpling around the edges, the angry mark trailing down his cheekbone. The other side of his face had a bruise as well, almost green, above a deep cut that looked like it should have had stitches. She was almost amazed to see the rest of him intact, though it looked like he had wrapped bandages around the knuckles of one hand and he seemed to be favoring his left side.

He coughed, interrupting her mental cataloging of the injuries that covered him. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling? How are  _you_ feeling? Did you get hit by a truck?!?” She couldn’t stop staring, incredulous; he looked like he needed the hospital bed more than she did.

“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a shake of the head and nodded to her bag. “Are they letting you out?”

“Yeah. I get to go home today.”

Colt smiled, soft, studying her. “Good.”

“Where were you?” She didn’t know why, with her hospital stay and The Brotherhood and his obvious injuries, couldn’t say why this is what her brain focused on, but it was. She felt young, immature, that this is what she wanted to question, but she couldn’t stop now. “Logan was here all the time and you never-”

“Hey.” He took a step closer, limping slightly. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“I’ve been here for days, Colt, days.” She wanted to ask more, ask if prom meant nothing, ask if he couldn’t even spare an hour to visit her, but stopped. She leaned back, against the bed, as he took another step closer.

He stopped to watch her, wary, and she saw the concern on his face morph to anger, then resolve. “He touched you.”

“…Huh?”

He swallowed, hard. “He hurt you. He won’t make that mistake again.” The tone of his voice, hard and final, made her pause.

“Jason?” She was glad the bed was solid behind her because she needed something to hold her up. “You went after him?”

“You don’t need to worry about him anymore.” His eyes were cold, far-away, and she knew with grim certainty that he was right.

The moment stretched into minutes as she studied him, the injuries, the set of his jaw, the boy who would fight for her, the boy who would kill for her. She took a step forward, then another, wrapping him up in hug, gently, arms circling around his back and clutching him close.

Finally, he responded, arms around her waist, chin nuzzling her hair. She held him closer, hoping her love could heal his wounds, especially the ones she couldn’t see.

She pulled back to look at him, sweeping a hand over his temple, tenderly. His eye looked even worse, close up, swollen and dark against his skin. “You don’t need to do this for me. Please don’t, not for me.” She paused as her voice caught. “I’m not worth it.”

He took her hand, lacing their fingers, a kiss to her knuckles. “You are worth it. And more.”

He held her gaze before folding her back in, close against his chest, for minutes, maybe longer, apart from the rest of the world. It wasn’t long enough, never long enough, before her dad showed up to take her home, before she had to step back, away from his warmth, ready to go.

Her dad looked cautious, understandably so, watching Colt with uneasy eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile when he leaned close and whispered, “Worth it.”

She caught his eye one last time and nodded, before following her dad down the sterile hallway to the car.


End file.
